


The Golden Prince

by OctobersLily510



Series: The Marvel Court [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha Tony Stark, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Attempted Seduction (ish), Awkward Conversations, Loki and Thor Are Not Related, M/M, Omega Loki (Marvel), Omega Peter Parker, Omega Steve Rogers, Starker-centric, Tony Stark is an idiot, mentioned slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:34:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23177053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OctobersLily510/pseuds/OctobersLily510
Summary: “Well, are you going to tell me freely, or will I have to trick it out of you?”The older Omega crosses his arms, managing to look regal even stripped of his dusty travelling robe and is in a white undershirt and mud-spattered breeches. His long black hair is tied back with ribbon, and he leans against the bed post with his eyebrows raised and his ever-present smirk on his face. He is ten years older than Peter, but all that as ever done is made him act like an annoying older brother.Peter loves him for it…although he will never admit it.Peter just looks at him for a second before dramatically flopping down on the armchair, shedding the Royal persona he had to wear at the formal greeting. Loki merely waits him out before Peter finally stutters out what’s been bothering him.Predictably, Loki laughs in his face.“Seriously? You’re worried you can’t seduce your Alpha?”“Loki!” Peter cried, laughing and covering his reddening face with both hands. “It’s not that simple.”“It definitely is.” The other mocked, dropping himself down on the bed. “And lucky for you, you have my help in doing so.”
Relationships: Loki/Thor (Marvel), Peter Parker/Tony Stark, pre-Steve Rogers/James "Bucky" Barnes
Series: The Marvel Court [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1666123
Comments: 22
Kudos: 244





	The Golden Prince

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! First of all, I wanted to say a massive THANK YOU to anyone who commented, left kudos and comments and bookmarked. I am absolutely blown away by it and I cannot thank you guys enough! I hope you like this second instalment: I had writer's block so I'm not as happy with it as I'd like to be, but I will allow you all to judge (kindly, please!)
> 
> There is of course room for more but as always that is life and responsibilities permitting: thank you all for your patience!
> 
> Warnings: Sex between a soon to be 18 year old and older man is mentioned.

Steve had been here for 6 months – and he was learning.

  
He was good at that.

  
You had to be, as a slave – to learn what your master wanted and when was to stay alive, to learn when he wanted the fight to last long so he could win more money, or when he was in a temper and wanted a quick win so he could return home to his whore-warmed bed.

  
To learn when to be silent, to learn when to be still, and to learn how to kill before your opponent.

  
He wouldn’t be alive if he wasn’t a fast learner.

Protecting Peter Stark, the soon-to-be-King Consort of Americana was not unlike learning the habits of a new master – watching his reactions, scrutinising his movements, learning his expressions and constantly, always being aware of his surroundings.

  
But it was also completely different.

  
Being the Prince’s personal security meant his own chamber: a warm bed, plenty food, and a position of respect. He skills were admired for what they were: fine-honed with years of training, and he was not looked down on or ignored for his past.

  
Much.

  
Having the friendship and confidante of the Prince was an unexpected, but welcome development – he did not remember the last time he had allowed himself to trust someone else. He was surprised at himself for trusting this boy so quickly.

  
But then again, no he wasn’t – to know Peter was to trust him.

  
The boy was kind, and decent and hard-working, but no pushover and certainly no fool – but he wore his heart on his sleeve, and Steve couldn’t help but want to protect him because of it.

  
Like now.

  
They were in Peter’s chambers, himself polishing his new shield (“A courting gift! Steve that’s wonderful!” “It’s not, merely to help with training, sire.” “So you keep saying.”) and Peter at his desk, sorting through the papers of today’s Omega Court matters. However, he had been playing with his quill for the better part of fifteen minutes and had not written nor read a word in that time.

  
Steve watched him frown at the paper without seeing it, letting out little sighs as whatever bothered him clearly took over his mind. When he started biting his lip as if to contain his emotions, he finally spoke up.

  
“Is something wrong, sire?”

  
Peter startled, looking up at him with wide chocolate eyes. “What?”

  
Steve smiled gently. He had gotten better at that, recently. “You stopped paying attention to your work – is something wrong?”

  
“I…I merely…I mean…” Ruefully, Peter broke himself off and laughed. “Yes, Steve, I suppose you could say something was wrong: stupid though it may be.”

  
“Can I do anything to help, Your Majesty?”

  
“Call me Peter, for a start – I swear you and Bucky do this on purpose.”

  
Steve’s jaw ticked with a chuckle, but he managed to keep his face from betraying him. “I do not know what you mean, sire.”

  
It did the trick – Peter laughed gently. “I’m sure.” He sobered, staring at the fire, unseeing.

  
Steve waited. Yet another thing he had learned, and was good at. Many of the servants had helped raise Peter; and were used to the happy, bubbly child he had been, and therefore did not have the patience to wait for him to speak when he was like this.

  
Perhaps that was why Steve was best to be his personal guard – he had no such difficulty.

  
“It is truly a…stupid matter.” Peter began, and still Steve waited. The Prince sighed again.

  
“Do you think the King desires me?”

  
It was the grace of ten years training that Steve did not drop his shield in shock. As it was, it was still a close thing.

  
That he had not expected.

  
“Apologies, my Prince, I don’t think I understand the question?”

  
Peter smiled ruefully and finally turned to look at him. “Let me ask you another question then: how does Bucky look at you?”

  
Steve opened his mouth, but no words came out.

  
It was true, that himself and General Winter had become…close, in recent weeks, after much effort on the Alpha’s part to gain his trust.

  
And he had.

  
With quiet words and secret smiles, with tactful questions about his comfort, and courteous offers to join the army training sessions. With respectful attention to his suggestions and gentle hands when dressing his injuries, Bucky – ahem, General Winter – had broken down his defences.

  
It helped that Steve could read his expressions – while the General had looked at him with lust or desire, it had never been mixed with the determination or anger that meant a dangerous Alpha with one thing in mind. Instead, it had been mixed with tenderness, awe, or admiration.

  
Steve had always known, from day one, where he stood with Bucky – he knew that while Bucky had wanted him, he wanted him to be his partner, a mate, perhaps one day…a husband. It was a thought that was scary as it was exciting.

  
The gifted shield was indeed a courting gift, and everyone knew it.

  
Didn’t mean he had to admit it.

  
“Ah.” He said simply, taking drink from his water. “I see what you mean…but the King looks at you as if you are his whole world, sire: he looks at no one else.”

  
Peter sighed again, shaking his head. “I know that, Steve – I have never and will never doubt Tony’s love for me. But he does not look at me like Bucky looks at you: as if he would have me there and then, if only I said yes.”

  
Steve nodded slowly, pointedly ignoring his own embarrassment at Peter’s observation – he could not deny it, he himself had observed the King when around Peter, and while he rarely took his eyes from the Prince when he was in the room, he had to agree that he had never seen him look at Peter with lust or heat.

  
There was a reason for that, though.

  
“He has raised you from infancy – it must be difficult for him to see you in such a way.”

  
Peter’s expression fell, and Steve struggled to think of something more comforting to say. “That is not to say he won’t or doesn’t – he is eager to marry you, remember that.”  
The Omega nodded, but his expression didn’t alter. “I cannot see a way to change his view of me.” He murmured into his quill. “I know how to formally court him, I know how to look beautiful and attractive…I know him better than anyone…but how can I make him look at me differently: as a mate, not as a…” He trailed off, struggling with putting his feelings into words, and Steve frowned as he tried to understand his meaning.

  
“Not as a forgone conclusion, you mean?”

  
“Yes! No! I don’t know!” Peter threw his quill down, ignoring the spattered ink and acting every one of his measly eighteen years, threw himself down on his expensively embroidered bedspread. Steve had to stop himself from laughing at the youthful display. “Ugh, I _am_ a foregone conclusion, he knows that! I don’t want him to think I would ever mate with another Alpha just because they wanted me…”

  
“But you want him to want you…as a partner and a lover; not just as his ‘destined Omega mate.’” Steve summarised, slightly taken aback when Peter suddenly sat up, eyes brighter than they had been all day. “Exactly!” He cried, triumph at finally having the words fading as he realised that putting it into words didn’t actually solve the problem. He slumped against his pillows. “But I don’t know how to make that happen…like you said, he raised me – he’s seen my best and my worst, he knows me better than anyone in this world or the next…so how can I ever get him to look at me in a whole new way?”

  
For once, Steve didn’t have an answer to that, other than: “You could try talking to him?”

  
Peter groaned into his pillow and said nothing.

***

  
“My love, is anything the matter?” Queried Tony later that night, when the King and Prince Consort had met each other for dinner in their soon-to-be shared chambers, as was the custom since Peter came of courting age.

  
The distracted Prince looked up from his almost-untouched plate and met the concerned gaze of the Alpha with some guilt. He had not meant to make him worry. “Forgive me, Alpha.” He murmured, gently placing his hand on the Alpha’s in comfort. “My mind was elsewhere.”

  
“I could see that.” The Alpha gripped the offered hand and stroked his thumb along the smooth skin, turned liquid bronze in the firelight. “What can I do to help?”

  
Peter smiled at the phrase: it was typical, of course: for his entire life, his Alpha had put him first. Always and without question.

  
He decided to try and broach the subject. “I was merely thinking of our wedding…are you looking forward to it, my love? You have waited much longer than I.”

  
The King laughed and took a bite of his meal. “Undoubtedly, my Prince, although you know that not much will change: merely your bed chamber. You have been my most beloved Omega since I found you on the day of your birth, and that will not change even if we are finally, officially married.”

  
He took another bite. “Though I am most looking forward to not having Pepper require me ten times a day to make decisions on the music to be played or the tapestries to be made or – gods forbid! – the meat to be served!” The King laughed.

  
Peter wanted to face palm. That was not what he had been trying to get at.

  
He should have known better. It was no secret that Tony Stark didn’t do subtle.

  
“And of our wedding night?” He decided to come out with it brazenly: surely Tony could not mistake him now? “I hope you look forward to that also?” He held his breath, hoping that now the King and he could have this discussion.

  
Tony stopped eating his meal then, the mirth disappearing from his features. Peter let a small smile out as Tony dropped his fork and took his other hand: their meal forgotten. The Omega took a deep breath as he readied himself for the conversation to follow: he did not want his Alpha to misunderstand anything.

  
“My apologies, love: I should have spoken to you about this before now.” The Alpha began, and Peter frowned a little in confusion, although Tony did not seem to notice. “You are young, I know that you must be apprehensive of our wedding night and what you think it means…”

  
What he thought it meant? What?

  
“What?” He finally asked, interrupting Tony’s careful speech.

  
Which was a shame, really: Tony was never careful with his words.

  
“I just want you to understand you don’t have to do anything, Peter: we may be mates but I don’t want anything from you that you aren’t willing to give.” The King continued. They had had conversations like this before, but always when it was an abstract concept for the distant future: not an up-coming possibility.

  
“Of course, Alpha.” Peter was struggling now. “But, you’re wrong to think I am scared, I just wish to know what I can do for you?” Oh gods, that made no sense! “I mean, it’s your wedding night too and I hope to make it…I mean, I…uh…want it to be….um, enjoyable for both…”

  
“Shhh, Omega, stop.” Murmured Tony, coming around to Peter’s side of the table and kneeling in front of him, their hands still clasped. “Your health and happiness are all I need or desire, sweetheart, don’t trouble yourself about any of this.”

  
“But…” Peter tried to get the conversation back to what he had originally wanted. “That’s what I am worried about: your needs or desires are…”

  
“ _Nothing!_ ” The Alpha growled, his eyes black, and Peter jumped in surprise. His Alpha had rarely used his inner instincts like this: especially in front of him.

  
“What I desire, what I have always desired or needed is you to be happy, healthy, safe, and well. I need nor want nothing more than that and if that means we remain in separate beds for the rest of our lives then I will tuck you in every night with a smile on my face Peter: please understand, all I truly care about is your happiness.”

  
Well, fuck it.

  
Asking “but do you actually want to mate with me?” was just going to keep them going in circles.

  
And Peter was hungry, so.

  
He sighed internally, wondering if ‘my idiot of an Alpha is too self-sacrificing’ was an actual problem the court would address.

  
He smiled gently at the aforementioned ‘idiot Alpha’ that he loved and pulled him into a gentle (but innocent, always innocent) kiss. “Thank you, my love. I apologise for worrying you.”

  
Now what?

  
***

  
In a strange turn of events, there was one person who did have an answer to Peter’s problem.

  
His Royal Highness King Loki, King Consort of Asgard, another of the Nine Kingdoms of Infinity and the closest neighbours to Americana on the north and east boarders. The Alpha King Thor had been Tony’s friend and ally for years – and so by default, Peter and Thor’s Omega Loki had struck up an unlikely but close friendship when Peter had been brought to meet the Royal couple on a state visit when he was seven years old.

  
Such state visits are common between the kingdoms now, and it takes Loki all of five minutes to notice the new despair in his young friend after the formal greetings in the Great Hall, as they retire to Loki’s guest chambers – the same one every time, on his insistence – to prepare for dinner.

  
“Well, are you going to tell me freely, or will I have to trick it out of you?”

  
The older Omega crosses his arms, managing to look regal even stripped of his dusty travelling robe and is in a white undershirt and mud-spattered breeches. His long black hair is tied back with ribbon, and he leans against the bed post with his eyebrows raised and his ever-present smirk on his face. He is ten years older than Peter, but all that as ever done is made him act like an annoying older brother.

  
Peter loves him for it…although he will never admit it.

  
Peter just looks at him for a second before dramatically flopping down on the armchair, shedding the Royal persona he had to wear at the formal greeting. Loki merely waits him out before Peter finally stutters out what’s been bothering him.

  
Predictably, Loki laughs in his face.

  
“Seriously? You’re worried you can’t seduce your Alpha?”

  
“Loki!” Peter cried, laughing and covering his reddening face with both hands. “It’s not that simple.”

  
“It definitely is.” The other mocked, dropping himself down on the bed. “And lucky for you, you have my help in doing so.”

  
“I don’t feel very lucky right now.”

  
“Oh, you poor poor thing.” Loki mocked, his tone at odds with the gentle way he ruffled Peter’s hair: giving comfort in his own way. “How do you think I managed to get Thor to have me before we were even married?”

  
“You did _what_? No!” Peter was delighted. “He’s such a stickler for gentlemanly Alpha behaviour!”

  
Loki looked even more smug than usual. “Not always.” He sang, sitting up and heading over to his chest of belongings. “We grew up together, and our age of consent is much lower than yours – I was certainly not waiting until marriage to have him in my bed, and so I persuaded him to see my point of view.”

  
Peter couldn’t believe it. “How?”

  
Loki rolled his eyes good-naturedly from where he was elbows deep in his clothes. “By seducing him, obviously. It shocks me that you truly believed you could seduce Tony Stark with an _‘honest conversation_.’” He rolled his eyes. “Now…” He pulled out a long length of gold silk. Peter’s eyes widened. “Here is what you are going to do…”

***

  
“Loki! You have lost your mind! I cannot do this!”

  
“I taught you to dance when you were but a child! You most certainly can.”

  
“Not like this!”

  
“That’s the point. Now hush and come on. The reception is beginning.”

  
***

  
The Iron King presided over the welcoming reception to his Asgardian guests with a smile on his face that was only slightly fake…Lady Pepper would be impressed.

  
It was not that he did not enjoy the company of his allies – for many years their allegiance had kept their boarders safe and secure, their nations thriving. Thor’s booming laugh and excellence in both battle and brewing made him a delightful companion, and Loki’s thorny personality but fierce protection of Peter had endeared him to Tony years ago.

  
Although sometimes the snarky little shit could drive him to an early grave.

  
He takes another sip of the beer Thor brought with him and surveyed the room again, professionally ignoring the looks of the well-dressed ladies and gentlemen of both courts to search for his Omega Prince – usually the sight of him meant the looks and whispers were less obvious, and the parties and socialising infinitely more bearable with him by his side.

  
“My friend! It is good to be here once again, thank you as always for your hospitality!”

  
Thor was an Alpha built like a brick shithouse (forgive his rather un-Royal like description) with blonde hair and beard and bright blue eyes. He had a merry disposition that more than one enemy over the years had taken to mean he and his kingdom was easy prey…a mistake they paid dearly for.

  
“Never a bother to host you Thor, especially when you bring such excellent gifts.” He toasted his friend, smiling into his glass as he took another sip. “Where is your shadow this evening? I find myself not yet insulted or challenged – it is almost disconcerting.”

  
Thor let out his trademark booming laugh. “He is still tucked away with your Prince, I believe. I have not seen him since we arrived.”

  
“I don’t know whether to be relieved or concerned.” Tony remarked dryly.

  
“I find it is best to just be agreeable to your Omega’s whims, otherwise it may end up with you in a cold bed.” Thor chuckled. “Your wedding is approaching quickly, I believe?”

  
Tony laughed. “Indeed. I shall be happily trapped in holy matrimony in three months’ time, much to the Lady Pepper’s relief and the other Omega’s despair.”

  
Thor took another sip. “You say trapped in jest, I know. You have been waiting for this day for a long time.”

  
“Indeed.” Tony nodded. “And I would have waited even longer if I had to: every minute I have had with him is a gift.”

  
Thor smiled brightly. “It is good to hear you speak so, my friend! I remember you in our youth to be rather bitter about the idea of an Omega mate.”

  
Tony hmphed. “I wasn’t bitter about the idea of an Omega mate, merely the idea of finding him in the kingdom. Now that he is safely in my arms, I have no need of such bitterness.”

  
Thor opened his mouth, no doubt to again laugh or make another jest, but the arrival of the aforementioned shadow stole his thoughts. “I should hope no bitterness exists between you and your Omega, Your Highness, for that would be quiet concerning with you not yet married. Should I be counselling my young charge to flee to Asgard instead of congratulating him on his impending nuptials?”

  
Loki had arrived: just as challenging as always, and looking splendid and borderline scandalous in a rich, almost transparent emerald green robe with silver trim, and the matching silver and jewelled circuit adorning his head: marking him as the King Consort.

  
Tony merely rolled his eyes and Thor greeted his Omega with a respectful bow and kissed his hand. Loki, in his usual Hel-may-care fashion, allowed his Alpha this courtesy before using the rich red silks of his robes to reel him in for a much more…thorough greeting.

  
Tony rolled his eyes again.

  
“Lovely to see you again, Prince Loki: I trust you will accept my offer of a mere handshake?”

  
The Omega smirked as he released his now slightly-dazed Alpha and clasped Tony’s hand. “Well met, Your Highness. Thank you as always, for your wonderfully accommodating hospitality.”

  
He was referring, of course, to the looks and whispers of Tony’s court towards the brazen display of affection and the barely-modest outfit. Loki lived to be the talk of the court: any would do.

  
Tony was used to it. He didn’t understand how either of their many courtiers weren’t.

  
“My love, we were just discussing the Iron King’s happiness at his upcoming wedding celebrations. I know you are looking forward to travelling down to make up Prince Peter’s escort.” Thor spoke up, handing his husband a goblet of beer he had taken from a passing servant.

  
“Indeed.” Murmured Loki, taking a sip in thanks to Thor. “It will be wonderful occasion.”

  
Tony frowned in suspicion at the smirk still present on the Omega’s face: and the distinct lack of his own Omega.

  
“And have you seen Peter, Prince Loki? I find his absence at my sight grating, and I believe he was meant to be accompanying you downstairs?”

  
At this, Loki’s smirk turned downright wicked.

“He will be with us…momentarily.”

  
Before Tony could ask what could possibly be keeping him from his side (especially when he knew his Alpha hated these events), the musicians suddenly struck up the introduction to la volta: the couple’s court dance.

  
“What is…” Tony trailed off as he saw what everyone else had already turned to witness.

  
Peter had arrived.

  
Now, it is important to note that Peter had always - as he had explained to Steve before – been professionally and properly presented: in dress, manner and deed. He had been watched for any scandal or inappropriate behaviour since he could walk, and so had always, always ensured that in everything he did, he only presented the best of himself and by extension: his Alpha and King.

  
So what Tony saw tonight was a Peter he had never seen before.

  
Dressed provocatively and sensually in what looked like lengths of gold silk and chains, Peter shone in the candlelight of the great hall. He wore his gold circlet inlaid with rubies, his arms and calves where bare and draped with the gold silk, and his eyes had been outlined in kohl.

  
He was breath-taking.

  
Tony felt like he was in a dream, as he watched his Omega begin to dance. Peter had always been a fantastic dancer, having been taught since he was a child along with many of the pastimes which were considered important for rich and royal Omegas to learn.

  
But he had never seen him dance like this.

  
La Volta was a couple’s dance, but controversial in it’s performance: considered ‘too vulgur’ for polite society. Peter was dancing it now: but he was dancing it alone, creating the feeling of waiting for a partner to join him.

  
Or seducing his Alpha to join him.

  
The King could not help but feeling that: watching the Omega he had known and cherished all his life swing his hips and kick his legs, his arms and torso swaying in the air as if he was floating above the ground – all the while looking at the King under his lashes, his eyes dark and glittering.

  
Tony knew what Peter looked like - of course he did – but he still couldn’t take his eyes from him, nor catch his breath.

  
Peter pirouetted again as the music built up to a crescendo, before slowly making his way through the shocked courtiers to his Alpha’s side.

  
Tony wasn’t sure when the last breath he’d taken was. He might need to fix that at some point.

  
Peter’s dance finished with a deep curtsey at his Alpha’s feet, his back leg extended, his chest to the floor. As he slowly rose to the last notes of the lute, his hand was raised – palm down – and on instinct Tony caught it in his, helping him rise to a graceful stand.

  
“My King.” Peter’s voice was a purr. “My apologies for being late. I hope you will forgive me?”

  
Words. Tony, words.

  
Now, Tony.

  
“I…um, you…uh…”

  
OK, words. Check. A full sentence at some point would be great.

  
“I want to fuck you.”

  
_Shit._

  
It was only when he heard Loki’s snickering and Thor’s booming laugh that he realised – with utter horror – that he had said that out loud.

Peter’s face was bright red, matching the King’s robes, but his eyes glittered with delight.

  
“Your Majesty, please save something for the wedding night: and spare the rest of our ears.” Loki was having a fantastic time. He should really make Thor visit more often.

  
“I…did not mean to say that.” Tony could see Lady Pepper approaching out of the corner of his eye, her blue robes catching the candlelight, along with the sharp look of exasperation and annoyance.

  
Peter also saw her approach, and before he could lose the last of his nerve, he leaned in to whisper into his Alpha’s ear: “…I will take that as a promise, Alpha: perhaps I shall dance for you again on our wedding night?”

  
Lady Pepper arrived already admonishing: “Your Majesty, while you look stunning, I really don’t think…” Peter stepped back to look at the Supreme Head of Council, his blush deepening as Loki smirked next to him.

  
The Iron King didn’t say anything.

  
He had forgotten how to speak. Again.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoyed! Comments and constructive criticism are welcomed, hate will be deleted and ignored.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Battle for the Soulmate](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27531961) by [JennyPin99](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JennyPin99/pseuds/JennyPin99)




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